Il Ponte Vecchio

When I was little, grandma used to pull out this beautiful  box when it was just her and me, and show me a fancy pair of earrings inside. She always started by telling me she got them at the "ponte vecchio" in Italy. Then she's always explain that ponte vecchio means old bridge- a totally unnecessary explanation since in Spanish old bridge is puente viejo- practically the same thing. But she so enjoyed explaining that, showing me them, and telling me how when my older sister turned 15, she'd give them to her. Nothing was more important to a little Latin American girl than turning 15, mind you. And with grandma's it was all about what they were going to give you when you turned 15.
Krioboly.
In any case, the earrings had the same handmade wire filigree as you see above. So I'm pretty sure these flowers, part of a whole broken bracelet I got, must be from Italy as well. Tons of stuff in Uruguay is from Italy.  I may have even gotten the whole bracelet from Grandma but it's all become a blur.


Hecatologue.
As the fancygirly filigree flowers above are balanced out by the carved horn rounds and stuff dangling off of them, so here is the grungy rustic salvaged wood in soldered bezel is balanced out by the pretty rhinestone/pearl/opal shimmery goodies sprinkled about the chain. Dear God that was a long sentence.


Because I had the wood piece in an all dark/grungy necklace and it didn't work. I forget my formula for balancing things out sometimes. All the time.


Embaphium.
These are little green apples covered in red candy coating. They're inside a little acrylic-windowed locket that took days and days to oxidize even that much, which isn't that much.... (hu?)
Anyways.


You guys, I woke up from such an awful nightmare this morning that shook me to my core. And it made me think of how I never share anything bad here, just silly anecdotes and stuff... Even though folks see my stuff and think I must be all dark and morbid. But mostly I don't share dark stuff because my life is awesome. Just that in the morning, before I wake up, my meds wear off and it becomes like a horrible acid trip. And even more so because I'm dreaming, so my head goes to the darkest most awful things imaginable- things I couldn't even say here.
There's no point to this. I'm just babbling.


Blindsight.
Here's a lightly painted thing. I put a lot of wax on top to try and protect the paint from rubbing/flaking right off. Hope it works.


Pretty, though, hu?]


Molrowing.
Remember the double wrap thang? Here's one in bracelet form- which is a good way to get more going on on a smaller piece. "on on?" Why aren't my sentences working?


Anyway. Here's a picture of the old bridge:It's lined with shops, which all bridges in Florence used to be in the Middle Ages. Instead of the original butchers though, now there's jewelers and stuff- says wikipedia. Damn, I'd always imagined her getting the earrings from an outdoor vendor. From, like, an ice cream cart actually. OK, I was 4 years old guys.
 Real talk.